From Rackets to Mallets:The Cecilia Davis Story
by Kayleena A. Carpenter
Summary: Cecilia was the star tennis player at Sunny Slopes high. When she goes through a career ending accident that puts her off the team permently, she is practicly forced to be in Marching Band. There she find something she never expected:Love.
1. Tennis star no moreDO read this one

Hello my children and welcome the revised version of chapter 1! Hoot! Well, anymways, my original chapter 1 really sucked, so I decided to write it over again. I've mad e a few changes. Cecilia no longer skateboards. I felt that I making the character a bit too talented. I'm probably going to go back and put the second chapter in first person eventually but not right now. SO, just ignore all of the akte boarding references in chapter 2.

Oh and also, to avoid confusion, I'm going to keep the original chapter on my story, just for refererence, but I would really like it if this is you first time reading this story if you don't read the old chapter one. The revised chapters will be marked like this

REVISED chappie 1

The non revised chapters will just have a normal title. If this is your first time reading this story, when you are done rading this chapter, go on to chapter three A.K.A my original chapter 2. I think I named that chapter Pink Miniskirts.

Have you ever heard that everything happens for a reason? Yeah, I thought it was crap the first time that I heard it too. I never really was the type of person that beilieved in fate or anything like that. I didn't like to face the fact that I wasn't actually in control of life. I remember the day in second grade when my dog Sandra died. My grandmother, meaning well, told me that Sandra had died for a reason and that she was better off now. Even in my immature little 8 year old mind, I knew that Sandra had died and that the only way that she would be better off is if she was still here with me.

I am the first to admit that I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Haven't we all? But it really wasn't until a lot latter in life that I relized that I made all of those stupid mistakes so that something good could happen to me. How could I know that the wrost thing that had ever happened to me could turn into the most wonderful part of my life? My name is Cecilia Davis and this is the story of my sophomore year in high school: The year I quit tennis, joined marching band and feel in love.

Five years earlier

" Cecilia Are you okay?" My best friend Hailey and the rest of the Sunny Slopes High tennis team was standing around me in a circle. I was lying on the court,holding my shoulder in agony.

"Cici! Couch Tersy told you not to wear those shoes! She told you that you would trip!"

"I know," I moaned, still clutching my injured shoulder, "Hailey, just call the hospital, I think I pulled something."

"Okay, I will, Cici," She said, running of towards a phone.

It had been my very first tennis match as a member of the Sunny Slopes High Varsity tennis team. I was a sophomore at the time and the youngest person to make varsity in about 20 years. It had been going great, until I tripped and and feel on my shoulder, hard. Oh, God, I hoped that I hadn't broken anything.. Then I might not be able to play in the match nest week against our arch rivals, the North View Nights.

"Cecilia, you had so better not have done anything to your shoulder! We can't afford to play Northveiw without you!" Yelled Kelsey, the team captain.

"Kelsey! I want to play more that you want me to play!" I yelled as loud as I could ( which wasn't very loud )

"I'm sorry, Davis, I'll shut up." She said, bending down to pat my non injured shoulder gently. "The ambulance is here, Cecilia, you take care of your self okay?"

I tried to nod, but couldn't. Soon, a bunch of guys and a strectcher came to pick me up. They lifted me on the stretcher and brought me to the back of the ambulance. The slid me in and closed the door.

I am pretty clostrophobic, so I didn't praticulary enjoy being in the back of an ambulance with a bunch of doctors. Their words all swirled around me as the proded me and stuck needles in my arms.

"Yes, we got Mrs.Davis' consent to do surgery!" said a voice that stood out praticularry clearly.

"No!" I muddered, "I don't.....want.....srugery!" I tried to get up.

"Don't let that girl get up, Dr. Howard. Get the sedatives!

"Hear you are nurse, Croinell!"

I felt a prick on my left shoulder. The chaostic scene of the ambulance swirled around me until it all finally went black

I opened my eyes and saw the most hideous wall paper I had ever seen I wondered where I was. Iheared a very annoying beeping noise. It sounded like a metronome. Ihated metronomes! It's like I want to play this song as fast or as slow as I like, not how fast a little machine that's purpose in life is to keep time likes! Then it hit her like a bullet, Iwas in the hospital. It all came back to me: The shoulder injury, the surgery, the ambulance, every horrible detail.

Irolled over and a horrible pain shot through my right shoulder.

Oh Shit! I must have screwed up my shoulder!

I moaned. Suddenly, four nurses and my mother came running into the room.

"Cici, dear are you okay? Talk to mommy! Oh my God I've been so worried about you!"

"Mom, I'm okay!" I croaked, weakly.

My mom bent down to hug me .

"Oh sweetie! I was so worried! You almost died! Oh honey! I'm so glad your okay!"

"Mom, when will I be able to leave the hospital?" I said.

"Oh, honey, I don't know. Why does it matter to you?"

"Mom!" Itried to yell, "I have my big tennis match on Friday!"

my mom was quiet for a long moment.

"Cici, Friday was yesterday."

Now it my turn to be quiet.

"You mean I missed my first big Varsity tennis match? Are you serious? I have to get out of here so that I can get back to practice!" I Said, trying to get up. Iwinced and lay back down.

"Um, Cecilia dear, I have some, erm, bad new for you. Dr. Sholtzifer says that you can't play tennis for the rest of this season. I'm so sorry darling!"

"Mom!" I yelled, "you can't do this too me! I'll be fine in like a week! I have to play this year! They never let sophomores on Varsity! I was the youngest player that they had on the team for 26 years! They can't do this to me!" I felt the hot tears coming to my eyes.

"Honey, I'm so sorry! This must be awful for you. But it's going to be okay! Guess who called me yesterday?"

"Who?" I sniffed.

"Mr. Glock."

"....The Band director?" Isaid, puzzled

"Yes! He says that now that you don't have any fall sports that you're going to be in Marching Band!"

"WHAT?????????"

"Marching band. You know a band that well, marches!"

"No! I know what Marching Band is! I just really don't want to do it! You have to get me out of it mom! You just have to!"

"Come on Cici! It might be fun!"

"I'm NOT going to do marching band!"


	2. Tennis star no moreDON'T read this one

"Hey, Cici why don't you show us that new trick you were talking about during chemistry today?" Her friend Caleb yelled from across the skate park.

"Caleb, I told you I hadn't got it perfect yet! I'll make a total ass of my self!"

"Come on Ci!" Yelled a random person, "You're the best skater here, if you can't do it no one can!"

Cecilia rolled her large hazel eyes.

"Guys, your gonna make me blush!" She said as she dragged her board up to the top of the ramp. She set it up and prepared for the extremely difficult trick that she had been working on. She tipped the board over the side of the ramp and began. It was going great until Cecilia overly calculated a turn and tumbled to the ground.

"I told them it wasn't perfect yet!" She mumbled as the world above her went black.

"Yes, Mrs. Davis, you're lucky that your daughter is alive!" Said a man in a white coat. He was a doctor at North Fields united hospital.

Cecilia's mother and the doctor where standing in a room in the hospital. Cecilia was lying in a bed, asleep. She was hooked up to an I.V. and one of those heart beep monitor thingies.

"You mean my precious Cici might have died! That girl is not stepping on another skateboard in her life!" Said Cici's mother, tears in her eyes. Mrs. Davis sat down in shock in a chair near her daughter's bed. She looked down on Cici's peaceful face, a look of deep concern in her eyes

"If Cecilia would have landed with the impact being about 2 inches further up, her spine would have had significant damage and she would have been bed ridden for the rest of her life." The doctor said, monotonously. He didn't really care. He saw about a hundred skateboarding injuries a month.

"Oh, she would have hated that! Cici is a very active little girl. She's on her school's tennis, basketball and softball teams." Mrs. Davis said, pride in her voice.

"She's on the tennis team?"

"Yes, she's played tennis since she was 5. Tennis is her life, well besides skateboarding!"

"With the shoulder injuries, I don't think that Cecilia will ever be able to play tennis again. And even if she can recover, she definitely won't be playing this season!"

"What?" Mrs. Davis said in disbelief, "Cici won't be able to play tennis?"

"Oh no! Defiantly not, and she won't be skateboarding either!"

"She'll be absolutly miserable! How can you do this to her? Are you trying to drag all of the joy out of her life?" Mrs. Davis stood up to face the doctor

"Ma'am, I've done all that I can. I hardly find it necessary for you to blame this incident on me when it is really your daughter's recklessness that is to blame!"

"My Cici wasn't reckless!" Yelled Mrs. Davis through her sobs.

"Mrs. Davis, I honestly feel pity for your daughter, but I'm going to have to ask you to stop with the yelling and crying! It could make Cecilia slip into a coma!"

Mrs. Davis gave a few convincing sniffles and sat back down.

Cecilia opened her eyes and saw the most hideous wall paper she had ever seen she wondered where she was. She heared a very annoying beeping noise. It sounded like a metronome. She hated metronomes! It's like I want to play this song as fast or as slow as I like, not how fast a little machine that's purpose in life is to keep time likes! Then it hit her like a bullet, she was in the hospital. It all came back to her: The skateboard accident.

I hope my board is okay! She thought

Cici was ready to get up and check on her skate board. She rolled over and a horrible pain shot through her right shoulder.

Oh Shit! I must have screwed up my shoulder!

Cici moaned. Suddenly, four nurses and her mother came running into the room.

"Cici, dear are you okay? Talk to mommy! Oh my God I've been so worried about you!"

"Mom, I'm okay!" Cecilia croaked, weakly.

Her mother bent down to hug her.

"Oh sweetie! I was so worried! You almost died! Oh honey! I'm so glad your okay!"

"Mom, when will I be able to leave the hospital?" Cici said.

"Oh, honey, I don't know. Why does it matter to you?"

"Mom!" She tried to yell, "I have my first tennis match on Friday!"

Mrs. Davis was quiet for a long moment.

"Cici Friday was yesterday."

Now it was Cecilia's turn to be quiet.

"You mean I missed my first Varsity tennis match? Are you serious? I have to get out of here so that I can get back to practice!" Cici Said, trying to get up. She winced and lay back down.

"Um, Cecilia dear, I have some, erm, bad new for you. Dr. Sholtzifer says that you can't play tennis for the rest of this season. I'm so sorry darling!"

"Mom!" Cici yelled, "you can't do this too me! I'll be fine in like a week! I have to play this year! They never let sophomores on Varsity! I was the youngest player that they had on the team for 26 years! They can't do this too me!" Cecilia felt the hot tears coming to her eyes.

"Honey, I'm so sorry! This must be awful for you. But it's going to be okay! Guess who called me yesterday?"

"Who?" Sniffed Cici.

"Mr. Glock."

"....The Band director?" She said, puzzled

"Yes! He says that now that you don't have any fall sports that you're going to be in Marching Band!"

"WHAT?????????"

"Marching band. You know a band that well, marches!"

"No! I know what Marching Band is! I just really don't want to do it! You have to get me out of it mom! You just have to!"

"Come on Cici! It might be fun!"

"I'm NOT going to do marching band!"


	3. Pink Miniskirts

Chapter two

Authors Note-

Hi!

waves energetically my name is Kayley! Well, it's not really Kayley, but that's what you shall know me by so it doesn't matter to you, now does it? Heheh. This is my first Marching Band story. Woot! Totally Fictional By the way. OH and I don't own marching band! Please review! I like reviews. Reviews make me write faster and better, so yeah! Ta ta for now!

"Cici!" yelled Hailey, Cici's friend from tennis yelled as she ran up to Cecilia's bed along with all the other members of the Sunny Slopes High Varsity Tennis team, "Oh my god! The team had been worried sick about you! Coach Tersy always did say that she wanted you to stop skateboarding! 'It's dangerous!' she said, but did you the high and mighty Cecilia Davis listen? No! You didn't! And now you're probably going to have to sit out for the next six games!"

The entire Girls Varsity tennis team had come to visit Cecilia. As much as she loved her teammates, Cici really didn't want to see them right now. All the girls on the team where very loud and could be annoying at times. Not exactly what a person in Cecilia's position wanted to hear.

"Is it true that you almost died?" Said Kelsey, the number one singles player on the team.

"Are you going to be able to play?" Said another girl. (Cecilia didn't quite see who it was)

"We won Yesterday, Cici!"

"I hope you're okay!"

"Ohmigod! You won't believe who asked Kelsey out after the game!"

"Did they give you ice cream, Ci?"

All the voices blended together as the members of the Tennis team prattled on and on.

"Girls!" Yelled coach Tersy as she entered the room.

Her authoritative voice instantly silenced all of the girls.

"Leave poor Miss Davis alone! I need to talk to her! Shoo! You can talk to her latter!"

The girls sadly left the room.

"How are you doing Cecilia?" Coach Tersy grunted.

"Better."

"When do you think that you can get back out there on the court?"

"Um," Cecilia mumbled, lips pressed tightly together," The doctor said that I'm probably not going to be able to play tennis ever again."

Coach Tersy was quiet for a very long time. She looked like a child whose puppy had run away.

"Well, that's okay I guess," She mumbled (it obviously wasn't okay), "We'll miss you, see you around, Davis."

She got up and walked out of the door. That was the last time that Cecilia spoke to Coach Tersy.

The following Monday morning, Cecilia Davis stood on the stone steps in front of Sunny Slopes high. She looked up at the old stone words that ran across the top of the Door in fancy letters. Never Underestimate the obvious, it read. Cecilia really didn't understand it. She wasn't sure if anyone really did. She walked up to the large wooden oak doors and placed her hand on the handle. Turning it, she thought about what she was about to do. The thought terrified her, even if she was unwilling to admit it. Cecilia opened the door and took her first steps into Sunny Slopes High as a normal High School Student. She was no longer Cecilia the Tennis star or Cecilia that one girl that's really good at skating, she was Cecilia Davis. Nothing defined her anymore. She had no purpose in life.

As she walked down the Hall, she couldn't help but notice how few people where greeting her. Almost no one from the tennis team would talk to her anymore. As soon as they had found out that Cecilia was no longer on the team, they had stopped speaking to her. Even Hailey wouldn't speak to her. Hailey and Cecilia had been friend ever since they had been on a tennis league at the local YMCA.

Soon Cecilia had reached the performing arts wing. She had never actually been down that hallway before. It looked foreign and strange. She walked down it, feeling strongly out of place. She found the room that she was looking for, room P125. As she opened the door she saw a group of people standing just inside. She assumed that they were band kids. As she walked in, all of their eyes where drawn to her. The talking stopped. Cecilia could tell how out of place she was. Today she was wearing her hot pink cargo miniskirt, her highlighter yellow fishnets, her black belly shirt that read 'I have issues', Her Belly Button Ring that was in the shape of a small orange rose and her trademark blue and green converse shoes. Her shaggy black hair was pulled up into two pigtails on either side of her head. All the band kids wore simple jeans and their show shirts for that season.

"Uh, Maddie, I have to go clean my trombone," Said a tall girl with red hair. It was obvious that she had no intention of actually cleaning her trombone.

The girl that must have been Maddie nodded quickly, looking nervously over at Cecilia. The entire band kids quickly folowed the two girls deeper into the band fortress.

Cici rolled her eyes.

What geeks! She thought.

After getting her amusement for the day after the homogonously dressed band geeks, Cici turned her attention to the real reason why she was here: Finding Mr.Glock, the band director. Cecilia looked around her surroundings. On her right, she saw a whiteboard. It had announcements and such on it:

Jimmy, call mom before practice

Happy sweet 16 Jeanelle!

Percussionists, see Mr.G about the "Gong incident" : -

Sarah, I love you, please go the homecoming with me? 3 Charles

Charles, I don't love you! Please stop stalking me! - Sarah

To her left, Cecilia saw a door. On it was a name plate. It read Fredrick Glock.

"Well, that's probably Where I might find Mr. Glock," Cecilia said to her self as she knocked on the door. A very interesting looking man opened the door. He had extremely curly red hair. He was a little bit taller than Cecilia and he was a little bit over weight.

"Um, Hi!" Cecilia started, "My name is Cecilia Davis. My mother said that I need to talk to you about marching band."

"Oh, I know who you are, Cecilia. Everyone in the music community knows who you are! You're Cecilia Davis, the girl that won the highly coveted Greg T. Waltz Piano scholarship at the age of eight!"

Cecilia couldn't help but roll her eyes. Sure, she had been decent at Piano when she was little. Why did everyone have to make such a big deal out of it?

"Come in Cecilia," Mr. Glock said, "You're probably going to be here for a while.


	4. the marimba

Hi and welcome to chapter 3 of my newest fic! Yeah, I've decided to start writing this fic in the first person, because it was sort of sounding odd in the third person. Yeah, so you'll just have to deal with it. Oh yes, and people, please review. I like reviews. I like them a lot! So, yeah

Kayleena A. Carpenter

I reluctantly walked into Mr. Glock's office. The room was covered with posters of stupid rock bands from the eighties. A Lumpy couch sat next to one wall while Mr. Glock's desk sat on the other. I walked over to the couch and sat down. It was the most comfortable couch that I had ever sat on. Mr. Glock sat down at his desk.

"Ever since you won that scholastic 8 years ago, Miss Cecilia, every music educator within the state wanted nothing more than to have you in their band. You can't imagine the disappointment that we felt when you choose sports over music."

He paused

"Well, I'm......erm......sorry," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"No need for you to apologize, it was your choice. But now, Lady Fate has had her play in things and you have been thrown back into the musical world's hands."

I gave him a strange look.

"Basically, Now that you aren't able to participate in sports anymore, I think that you should join the band."

"But.....but.....Mr.Glock, I.....well, there aren't pianos in band! Plus, I haven't played in at least 3 years! I just wouldn't work!"

"Cecilia, do you know how to read music?"

"Well, um yeah."

"DO you know the order of the keys on the piano?"

"Yes, I did play piano when I was little." I said, to avoid any other future question.

"Well, then it's settled! You'll play the Marimba in the pit!"

"The what?"

"The Marimba! It's a keyboard instrument that is struck by a mallet to produce a rich, deep, colorful sound."

I could already tell that this guy was a little out there.

"I don't know, Mr. Glock. Isn't the marching season already almost over?"

You could tell that MR. Glock was amused by my clueless ness.

"Our First contest isn't for another week or two. You'll do fine! Practices are from 6 to 9 Monday through Friday and 8 to 4 on Saturday. See you there Cecilia!"

"But......but.....Mr.Glock," I said in the nicest way possible, "I really don't want to be in marching band!"

Just then, there was a knock on Mr.Glock's door.

"Come in!" He yelled.

The door opened and a boy walked in. He had light brown hair that came down to just above his eyes. He was tall, probably taller than me, and well....not half bad looking. He looked at me. He looked like he was going to say something, but he thought better of it.

"Mr.G, I just wanted you to know that I was in no way involved with the gong incident, I swear! You know that I wouldn't do something like that! Please believe me!"

"Its okay, Michael, I believe you, Calm down."

"I'm pretty sure I know who did it too, He said as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "I think that it was Katrina and Juliet. They where all giggling when I tried to ask them about it."

"It's not important right now, Michael."

"But still---"

"Michael!"

"Sorry, Mr. Glock."

"Well, anyways, I'm glad that you're here. Guess who I got to play Marimba for you?" Mr. Glock said a huge smile on his face.

"I dunno. Who?" replied Michael.

"It was a rhetorical question! Well, I would like you to meet Cecilia Davis, you're new Marimba player!"

His eyes light up.

"The girl that won the Greg T. Waltz scholarship when she was seven?"

"I was eight thank you very much!" I said, annoyed. I didn't know why these people where making such a big deal over some stupid award that I had won when I was a little kid.

Michael turned towards me.

"Hi," He outstretched his hand, "I'm Michael Stronnon and I'm going to be your section leader.

I shook his hand.

"Hi! My name is Cecilia Davis and you're not going to be my section leader because I'm not going be in marching band!" I said through gritted teeth, glaring at Mr. Glock.

Michael gave me a very annoyed look.

"Cecilia, you know that that it is a requirement of the school board that all students take at least a year of a fine arts course, right?" Mr.Glock said calmly.

"I was planning to take two-d arts next year," I said, smugly.

"You're wasting your talent!" Michael suddenly yelled, standing up from the lumpy couch. He looked flustered, even angry. His breathing was heavier. He turned to address Mr. Glock.

"Every kid that has ever played piano has wanted just an ounce of the taln that she had1 She..." He turned to face me again, his voice growing softer, "You have no idea how much disappointment I felt when I first saw you name on the sports page. I still remember what it said, 'Sunny Slopes' own Cecilia Davis has won the state Championship in Tennis in the 011 year old category. Apparently Cecilia, the winner of the much coveted Greg T. Waltz piano scholarship, has found a new area to excel in: Tennis' Yes, I remember it clearly. You may not know it, Cecilia, but the entire piano world mourned that day.

I must say that I was touched by his words. Michael was getting really upset about this. His cheeks where flushed and he was breathing a bit heavier than normal. His eyes where on me, silently pleading for me to do something. I really hadn't known how much influence I could have on a person that I hardly knew.

When I was 4 years old, I began taking piano lessons. I excelled at a surprising rate. By the time I was 6, I could play better than some kids who had been playing nearly twice as long as I had. My piano teacher began entering me in contests. I always did well in them, but it wasn't until my 8th birthday that I started winning every single contest that I was entered in. Soon, I became a celebrity of sorts in the world of pianists. They all wanted to be like me. Sometimes random people off the street would come up to me and ask for my autograph. The full affect of it all never really set in. I shrugged it all off. Two weeks after my eighth birthday, I won the Greg T. Waltz piano contest. The prize was an all expenses paid early admittance to the Greg T. Waltz academy of the arts. However, I decided not to go. The piano brought me no joy, no challenge. Tennis and my other sports did. I found that I was much happier playing tennis than I ever had been playing the piano. When tennis started eating up more and more of my schedule, I decided to drop piano altogether. Not once have a regretted that decision.

There was no way that I was going to become a slave of music again. There was absolutely no way that I was going to be in marching. I was getting ready to tell Michael; and Mr. Glock this, when I looked into Michael's eyes. They were a miraculous shade of hazel. They pleaded with me, tugged at my soul. He looked like a little lost puppy dog that had been left out in the rain by its uncaring owners.

I sighed deeply and impulsively said, "I guess I'll try to play the Marimba."

Both Michael and Mr. Glock's faces light up, Michael ran over to Mr. Glock and gave him a high five.

"I have Cecilia Davis in my pit playing marimba! I can't believe this!" Michael said. He walked over to me and held out his hand. I grabbed it, a bit confused. He shook my hand profusely as though I had just won the noble peace prize.

"Thank you, Cecilia, thank you!" He kept saying over and over.

I slid my hand out of his after a second, feeling a bit awkward.

"Um, I have to go to class now. I guess I'll....erm.... see you at practice tonight." I said, grabbing my book bag off of Mr. Glock's couch. I walked out of the office, catching a last glimpse of Michael's silly smile.


	5. tears over an almost drummer

Hey!

squeals I actually got some reviews! That makes me feel all happy inside; I will now take a moment to thank all of my lovely readers!

Red Hawk K'sani

You are my first reader! Thanks for all of your reviews. I'll try to watch the typos a little better, but yeah.

Someone

Um, well I guess I'll try to write better. confused look

Myheartkeepsbleeding

Oh don't worry, Michael is very hot. A little obsessive and geeky maybe, but he's a pretty cool guy. And, yeah I think that something is going to happen between him and Cici shifty eyes

Sierra Potter-Malfoy

I sort of know how Cici feels as well. I didn't really want to be in band at first either, but now I LOVE it! You are defiantly making the right choice about choosing band over field hokey!

bandcutie9128

Yes, Michael is very obsessive about the piano thing. But he is a first rate band geek we must remember. Having Cici in his section is a REALLY big deal to him. Yes, he is very cute section leader! Heh heh

Thank you guys soooooooo much for reviewing! I love reviews! The next chapter is going to be told by Michael's point of view. I was going to keep this all in Cecilia's point of view, but I changed my mind! Enjoy the next chapter!

Chapter 4

Wow! I thought, still a little star struck. I just couldn't believe this! Cecilia Davis in my pit! This was amazing! I watched her walk out of Mr.G's office, smiling.

"You like her don't you Michael," Mr. G said, dropping the teacher voice.

"No!" I said, A little taken back, "I'm just.....well, in awe."

"Michael, we have to realize that she might not be as good as she once was. She hasn't touched a piano in several years," He said, carefully.

"No, I'm sure that she's still good. You can't loose talent like that."

"Just don't get your hopes up."

"I won't, okay?" I said, a little bit annoyed. Sometimes, it appears that Mr. Glock seems to think that he's my father or something. He's always so overly protective, never wanting me to get hurt. There was a long silence. No one really had anything else to say.

"So, Michael, "Mr. Glock said, scooting his chair over to his racks of CDs, "Do you want to tell me a little more about the Gong incident?"

He found a CD and put it into his CD player, soon the sweet voice of Jerry Kolright filled the speakers that sat on either side of Mr.Glock's desk.

"Is that the Jerry Kolright CD I got you for your birthday, Fred?"

"Don't change the subject, Michael!" Mr. Glock said," And don't let any of the school board members hear you call me by my first name."

I rolled my eyes, immediately feeling guilty as I did it. I don't think that Mr.Glock saw me, but I still felt badly.

"First, tell me all that you know, Mr.G," I said, smugly, leaning back into the lumpy couch.

"Okay, "He said, "The gong disappeared out of the band room after the football game on Friday. I knew nothing of this, until the next morning when I picked up the paper. You'll never believe what the headline was. Do you know what it was Michael?"

"No," I relied, innocently.

"You do know what a rhetorical question is don't you?"

"Yes, I do!" I said, boldly, "It's a question that requires no answer.....oh crap! That was another rhetorical question wasn't it?"

Mr. Glock shook his head slowly. "Michael, you had better be very glad that you are such a good percussionist. If you weren't, you would have been far away a very long time ago. Well, anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So, I read in my newspaper that countless homes and cars had been vandalized by a large heavy disk shape: A.K.A the Sunny Slopes High Band Dept.'s gong. The above gong was found in the middle of side step Park under the merry go round. That is all I know. Now, you will tell me all that you know, Michael."

I shifted a bit nervously on the couch.

"I don't know any more than you do Mr.G. Only that I think that it was Katrina and Juliet, but it's really just my word against theirs," I said, shrugging.

Mr. G gave me a very annoyed look.

"I get the feeling that you're not telling me all that you know, Michael."

"Yes, I am! What are you talking about Mr.G?" I laughed nervously.

Mr.G looked like he was going to say something, but he couldn't. The door to his office was thrown open by a very tall and skinny girl. She had the most beautiful red curly hair that came just bellow her shoulders. It always had the appearance of perfection, yet it was obvious that she didn't spend more than 5 minutes a morning on it. I was looking into the face of Chandra Aleena, the most amazing g percussionist that I had ever known. She was middle snare and had made our drumline absolutely fabulous last year in winter drum line.

"Fred! Chad and Allan didn't show up for percussion practice! Again!" She yelled. Chandra always called Mr. Glock by his first name, even when school officials where around. Chad and Allan were the two guys on the Cymbal line. They where put there because it was the only thing that they could manage. They hardly ever showed up to practice and had almost gotten kicked out of band three times. It was rumored that they smoked pot behind the Gym.

"Ally, its okay, Hun," Mr. Glock said, reassuringly. Sometimes I wonder if Mr.Glock was a psychologist in some past life. It seems like most band directors have to have a bit of experience in the field.

"No it's not! They are going to be totally off step during the first contest! I mean, they don't even have their MUSIC memorized yet! Isn't that just awful? I mean, if someone who actually has complicated music, and then I could realize that not ever one could memorize it! But seriously, they only have five crashes in the whole show! I have their music memorized!" Chandra almost had tears rolling down her cheeks, she was so angry.

"Sit down, Ally, you can join Michael for Percussion support group!" Mr. Glock said, sarcastically. Chandra looked over at me. It was obvious that she had been so angry that she hadn't noticed me before. She sat down.

"Erm....hey, Michael." She said, obviously embarrassed by her past behavior.

"Hey, Ally," I said, amused.

Mr.Glock turned off the CD and turned to face me and Chandra.

"Chandra Aleena Borkins, you are the most amazing snare drummer that I have ever known. And you're a hell of a section leader. Better than most, no offence Michael," Mr. Glock said, kindly

"None taken, Mr.G."

Mr. Glock nodded in acknowledgement.

"Well, anyway, it's not your fault that Chad and Allan are such bad musicians. There is nothing you can do about it."

At this point, Chandra couldn't take it anymore, she broke into tears.

"Oh Fred! They're just horrible!" She sobbed, "Every t-t-time I s-s-see them come in late to practice, I j-j-just can't help wondering if I really am a bad section l-l-leader!"

The tears where streaming down her freckled cheeks in graceful arcs. She still looked beautiful even with the blotched eyes.

At this point, I knew that I really shouldn't be there. Chandra needed to vent and she probably didn't want me there.

"Mr.G, I should probably be going," I said as I gave him a meaningful look, "I'll be back 4th period during my study hall."

"Okay, see you then Michael," Mr. Glock said as I walked out of his office.

Cheerio my good folks!

Kind of a filler chapter, but that's okay. You guys needed to meet Chandra Aleena. I just love her character so much! Well, anyways you'll here more about her latter. Please please review!


	6. The drummer's cult

Thank you so much to all of y'alls that reviewed. I love you much!

Cottoncandy9128 her name is Chandra Aleena, but people that know her well call her Ally. Did I update soon enough for you? Hope you like this chapter.

Longbottomzgirl (love the pen name BTW very cool. Harry Potter rocks my socks) Oh, there will be main characters that aren't percussionists don't worry! I would have made Ally play a different instrument, but it will be very important to the plot that she's a drummer. Yeah, you'll see latter. wink wink

Now on to our feature presentation!

Chapter 5- I'm NOT a percussionist!

I drove my Civic into the fine arts wing parking lot at exactly 6 o'clock P.M. I had went to great strides that I wasn't late to my first ever band practice. I though I should to make a good impression of myself, even though I really didn't want to be there. As I got out of my car, I heard the sound of the marching band warming up. I looked franticly at my watch.

6:01

Was there some unwritten rule that said that all the band kids had to be there early or something? I rushed into the band room, hoping that someone would be there to tell me where to go. When I walked into the doors, I heard loud arguing coming from the office of Mr.Glock.

"Glock, you know me and Katrina didn't take the gong!" said an annoying voice, very loudly.

Honestly, where they still arguing about the stupid gong that Michael had been so considered about earlier?

"Yeah, Jules and I were at Sarah the Mello's party after the game on Friday. We have an.....erm.....what's my word? Yeah! Alibi," said the voice that probably belonged to the girl called Katrina.

I slowly opened the door, hoping not the disturb anything. As I looked into the office, I saw the most peculiar bunch of people that I had ever seen in my life. On the lumpy couch sat three girls. The one on the furthest right had blonde hair that was cropped short. She was lanky and skinny and probably very tall. She was one of the prettiest girls that I had ever seen. She looked like she should have been in a fashion show instead of at marching band practice.

Next to her sat a short sort of chubby girl with strawberry blonde hair. She was the kind of person that you wouldn't want to bother at a bar. On the opposite end, there was a girl who wore the funniest turtle shelled glasses that I had ever seen a person wear out in public. She had on a baggy Sunny Slopes High tee shirt and some care bare pajama pants. Apparently, she really didn't care about how she looked at all.

A big bulky guy lay on the colorful rug in the middle of the office's floor. He was looking at the ceiling, a very concentrated look on his face. It didn't look as though he was paying attention at all. He kind of looked like the type that got confused rather often.

Sitting in the corner of Mr.Glock's office sat Michael and a girl that I thought that I might know. The girl had very long straight brown hair that came down past her waist. She and Michael were playing cards. I couldn't help but notice the disgusting expression of longing that came across the girl's face every single time she looked a Michael. She looked like a lion right before it was to get a dinner of freshly killed zebra.

All of the talking stopped when I entered the room. Mr.Glock looked up from his sheet music that he had been reading. Michael and the long haired girl had stopped playing cards. They were all staring at me. Suddenly, the short dimpy one spoke up.

"Alright, Mr.G, who's the freak with the black spiky hair?" She said, looking at me, in disgust. I wanted to give her a really dirty look, but I thought better off it.

"Um, Pit percussion, I would like you to meet you new Marimba player, Cecilia Davis," Mr.Glock said, a bit awkwardly.

I smiled as nicely as I could, trying to look friendly.

"Isn't Cecilia Davis that one really hot chick that plays tennis?" Said the kid that as lying on the floor.

"I, um, used to play tennis until a shoulder injury caused me to stop playing. So, now I'm here," I laughed. I was still standing in the doorway.

"I stand by ,my proclamation Michael," Mr. Glock said with a big grin as he got up from his desk and walked over to me, "Drummers have no courtesy. Kids please introduce your selves to Cecilia."

He put his hand on my shoulder and led me over to the couch.

"Scoot over, Samantha," he said to the turtle shelled glasses girl. She gave him very annoyed look. However, she did scoot over enough to allow me to sit down.

I sat, smiling at her. She didn't return my smile.

"Go ahead and start us off, Katrina."

The blonde skinny girl nodded.

"Um, hi! I'm Katrina Borkins and I play vibes. Oh and I'm a senior," She said as she smiled warmly. She seemed nice enough.

"Hey, I'm Juliet Willet; almost everyone calls me Julie or Jules. I'm a sophomore and I am playing tympani this year," Said the chubby girl, with out emotion.

"Samantha Lovegore, Junior, this year I'm playing vibes, though usually I play xylo," Said turtle shelled glasses girl, in a snob like manner. I didn't think that we where going to get along very well.

"Hey, I'm Matt Yolfright, I play the triangle and I'm not even joking," Said the kid on the floor, with pride, "I'm a junior. Nice to meet you Cecile!"

"Cecilia!" I said, annoyed. I hate it when people call me Cecile. I hate that name.

"Hi, I'm Keldy Hiliger. I play Marimba and I'm a freshman," Said the long haired girl that had been playing cards with Michael "Are you going to be replacing Janelle?"

I was getting ready to answer her when...

"And you already know me," Said Michael, cutting off Keldy with a smile. I smiled back.

"Well, gang, now that we all know each other, I thin that we need to star moving our stuff out to the practice field," Said Mr.Glock.

"Guys, leave the big annoying Marimba inside," Said Michael, "I need to teach Cecilia her music. I guess there no point in bringing out my Xylo either."

"Yeah, sure, whatever, Michael," Said, Juliet, "Have fun!"

She smiled then she laughed and ran off.

"Shut up Julie!" Michael yelled.

I could help but find the whole situation just a bit amusing.


End file.
